Upon the hallowed rooftops of the ArchCathedral, the wind whispers solemn hymns, carrying the weight of bygone prayers. The dying sun casts a mournful glow upon your penitent form, its fading light reflecting off the tarnished steel of your armor. Below, the desolate city sprawls in intricate ruin, a labyrinth of forgotten faith and silent reverence.

As you tread the sacred heights, a figure steps into your path—a warrior clad in resplendent gold, her ribboned blade singing softly in the breeze. Her presence is an omen, her voice a decree of divine wrath.

"Penitent one in sleeplessness.

Carrying the guilty sword, you have committed the most serious crimes against the Mother and her Saints, against the Miracle and its outbreaks.

We have been entrusted with putting an end to your mission.

I, Crisanta of the Eternal Penance, cast you out. I excommunicate you. I expel you. I execrate you—with the solemn blessing of Our Miracle of the Greatest Pain."

She readies her ribboned blade and prepares to fight